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ROBERT KING'S OKLAHOMA U. S. MARSHALS AND DEPUTY U. S. MARSHALS T. P. Foley to F. M. Foyil
Foley, T. P. is shown in the Arkansas Gazette Obituary as a deputy marshal, dying on May 4, 1870. (Arkansas Gazette, Obituaries Index - 1879)
Folgers, Uriah was commissioned on January 8, 1870, in the District Court at Van Buren, Arkansas, serving under Marshal William A. Britton. Deputy Marshal Folgers lived in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database) (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Historical List)
Folsom, D. J. served in the Central District in 1895. (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896)
Folsom, Sweeney served under Marshal Dana H. Kelsy for the Central District of Indian Territory in 1905, for a two year term during the time he was with the Indian police. (Indian Pioneer History - Sweeney Folsom)
Folson, W. “Tandy” was remembered working out of the Western District in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. In September of 1893, Deputy Marshal Folsom killed Captain Key Durant. His examination was held before the commissioner at Atoka, Choctaw Nation which was discharged with a self defense verdict. In November of 1893, Dave Bohannon killed Deputy Marshal Tandy Folsom at Durant, Choctaw Nation. Folsom held a warrant of arrest for Bohannon on a murder charge for killing Ben Foreman, in September of 1892. Knowing his fate if arrested, he slipped up behind Folsom and shot him. Bohannon and Folsom were both Choctaws and cousins. (The Kingfisher Times - September 7, November 16, 1893) (Indian Pioneer History - Elizabeth Kemp Mead) (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1894) Killed in the line of duty.
Fooy, S. W. was commissioned as deputy marshal in June of 1898. In April of 1907, Fooy had in his custody a Negro prisoner at the M & O Railroad in South McAlester who broke and ran to his freedom. Five shots from Fooy’s pistol and a bullet in his leg did not stop the fleeing prisoner. Fooy was still alive in 1930, living at Bartlesville, Oklahoma. (Lenora Leader - April 12, 1907) (Experiences Of A U.S. Deputy Marshal) (Indian Pioneer History - W.F. Jones) (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database)
Ford, Frank was a deputy marshal that was assigned to the Atoka court. (Indian Pioneer History - Joe Southern)
Ford, P. M. was commissioned in the Northern District of Indian Territory in 1902, serving under Marshal W. H. Darrough, assigned as office deputy at Vinita. (Ft. Smith Elevator - July 18, 1902)
Force, was commissioned in the Western District at Ft. Smith, Arkansas. (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database)
Foreman, S. Samuel was appointed deputy marshal on March 7, 1895, by Marshal George J. Crump in the Western District Court at Ft. Smith, Arkansas. Samuel Foreman was a cousin to the Wickliffe boys, a Cherokee gang who sought refuge in the Spavinaw Hills in the Cherokee Nation. The Wickliffes were charged in killing several men, including Deputy Marshals John Henry Vier and Ike Gilstrap. (See Deputy Marshal Vier and Gilstraps for details of Wickliffe gang; also see section on The Wycliffe gang.) There are numerous ways of spelling the Wycliffe name, such as Wickliff, Wycliffe and Wickliffe. Deputy Marshal Foreman lived in Oaks, Indian Territory. (Indian Pioneer History - Samuel S. Foreman) (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database) (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Historical List)
Foreman, William served a warrant of arrest to Daniel Pixley who was wanted for murder in the Delaware District of the Cherokee, Nation. Pixley was previously captured by Deputy Marshal Heck Thomas, but escaped. Foreman also arrested William Wirt in the same month, transporting him to the Ft. Smith jail. (Atoka Indian Citizen - April 26, 1890)
Forrest, Joseph S. was commissioned on February 13, 1889, in the Western District at Ft. Smith, Arkansas, serving under Marshal Jacob Yoes. (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database) (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Historical List)
Fortner, William served in the Northern Judicial District in 1895. (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896)
Fortune, Robert L. “Bob" "Poor Boy” was assigned to the Central District, Indian Territory, serving under Marshal Benjamin Hackett. In 1895, he made his home in Wilburton, Indian Territory. Fortune was a freedman, black deputy marshal who worked with fellow officer William “Bill” Ellis. In 1900, the two officers were summoned to capture outlaw, Step Ody at Slate Ford, on Brushy Creek, Choctaw Nation. The officers and outlaw became engaged in a extended gunfight which ended with both men running out of ammunition. The gun fight changed to a fist fight in which Poor Boy overpowered Step Ody, forcing him to surrender. On July 17, 1902, a man robbed a drug store at Harthshore, Creek Nation and fled to the South McAlester where he went into hiding in a colored hut. Being in the area Fortune assisted the city police in making the arrest but not before his prisoner tried to shoot him. In September of 1902, Fortune brought in four prisoners who were charged with the killing of T. J. Truitt, a farmer who lived near Hughes, Choctaw Nation. Truitt had left his home to go hunting and never returned. When he was found he was laying on the ground on his back, his gun on his breast with the muzzle under his chin. His hat was placed over his face, hiding a bullet hole. The four men brought in for his murder were Frank Elwood, Bud Daniels, John Daniels, and George Yokum. In October of 1902, the four men were released on charges of killing Truitt, due to the evidence not supporting any connection in his death. In April of 1904, Fortune was appointed field deputy at Wilburton, by Marshal George K. Pritchard of the Central District. Robert Fortune lived in Harthshorne, Indian Territory. (Ft. Smith Elevator - August 1, 1902) (The Woodward Bulletin - September 12, 1902) (The Choctaw News - June 2, 1904) (Indian Pioneer History - Samuel L. Davis) (Indian Pioneer History - William J. Layne) (Indian Pioneer History - Lula Neighbors) (Black History In Oklahoma) (Picture- Black Indians) (Picture - Black Red And Deadly) (Picture - The Western Peace Officer) (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896) (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database) (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Historical List)
May 3, 1900—The Coalgate Courier—Deputy Bob Fortune came up fro Wilburton last night, bringing C. R. Ward, who is charged with being an accessory before the fact to the shooting of Jack Hays by George McCurdy in the company store there Thursday. It is alleged that McCurdy went to Ward and told him that he wanted to borrow his gun to kill Hays and with and got it. Not withstanding the wounded man was shot four times, it is said he will recover.
Foss, Arthur M. was commissioned in the Southern District in 1898, serving as office deputy. (Black Red and Deadly)
Fossett, Mamie was commissioned in Oklahoma Territory by Marshal Canada H. Thompson at the Guthrie headquarters, assigned as a field deputy marshal in 1898. (File at Indian Archives in Oklahoma Archives - File #10, Oklahoma City, Ok)
Fossett, William “Bill” D. was serving with Heck Thomas, Bill Tilghman and Sheriff Rhinehart, who also carried a commission of deputy marshal, in April of 1897, when they killed Doolin Gang member, Little Dick West, near Guthrie, Oklahoma Territory. The four lawmen shared the $2000 “Dead or Alive” reward. On November 6, 1897, Marshal Canada H. Thompson appointed Fossett as Chief Deputy of Oklahoma Territory. Outlaws Bob Hughes and Bill Bourland, tried to put together a gang that would be one of the best in the territory. They recruited Henry Silva, Felix Young and Jim Fuller, known outlaws who were feared outlaws and good gunmen. The gang’s first holdup was a passenger train which they planned to rob when it slowed for a bridge near Pond Creek. On the Rock Island train was Bill Fossett who the Company hired as a guard. The outlaw’s plan went as scheduled but they did not foresee the resistance that would be made by Bill Fossett. Deputy Marshal Fossett focused his attention against the leader of the gang, Bob Hughes, whom he shot and killed. The remaining members of the band thought it best to flee, leaving the money behind. Silva and Young traveled to El Reno where they were captured a few days later by Deputy Marshal Chris Madsen. Deputy Marshal Fossett rode with Bill Banks and his sixteen year old son, Lew. Fossett drove the notorious Ellsworth Wyatt, alias “Dick Yeager” alias “Zip Wyatt” and Ike Black from their strong hold in the Gloss Mountains to the foothills west of Fairview where the outlaws were eventually killed. (See the narrative on Bill Banks, Marion Hildreth, and Gus Hadwigger for more detail on outlaws Black and Yeager.) Fossett was not mentioned as a deputy for the Oklahoma Land rush of 1889, but it is recorded that he legally lined up in the land rush west of the Kingfisher Station. Fossett’s horse was one of the fastest in the country, which easily out distanced the rest of the riders enabling him to drive his stake on the northwest corner of section 15, which was only two hundred-fifty yards west of the land office. The town of Kingfisher was built in the south half of section 15. Bill was appointed U.S. marshal on March 31, 1902 serving until his term ended, being replaced by Jack Abernathy. Will Fossett started his career in law enforcement working as an assistant marshal in Caldwell, Kansas in 1881 and went to Kingman, Kansas where he served as city marshal until he resigned in 1887 and worked on the construction of the railroads until 1889. On April 22, 1889 he was one of those who developed land fever seeking a homestead in Kingfisher, Oklahoma Territory. In 1889 the railroad at Caldwell extended their tracks to Kingfisher and Will became a special agent for the train company. (Picture-West of Hell’s Fringe) (Indian Pioneer History - W. D. Fossett) (Picture-Shooting from The Lip) (Heck Thomas) (Oklahoma Land Rush Of 1889) (Frontier Trails) (Oklahombres) (Outlaws on Horseback) (Why the West Was Wild)
FOSSETT’S GOOD CATCH Has Landed Levi Reed, Last Of Escaped Prisoners Charged With Murder Has Been Identified As The Man Who Fired The Shot That Killed The Son Of Dr. Beenblossom Near Rush Springs In August.
January 3, 1902—Guthrie State Capital—Chief Deputy Marshal Bill Fossett has succeeded in capturing Levi Reed, the last of the prisoners who escaped on July 5, inst. From the federal jail here, and has again place him in the hands of Jailor McCracken. Reed has been lucky during six months of freedom in eluding capture although Fossett has had him pretty well located and was only awaiting an opportunity to recapture him. It has been ascertained almost beyond a doubt that Teed fired the shot that killed the 14-year-old son of Dr. Beenblossom, of Oklahoma City, in the vicinity of Rush Springs about the first of August. By means of a photograph he was identified by Beenblossom as the right party. At the time of the murder Reed and Casey and Bryan, now under arrest for the murder, were together in the region of Rush Springs, and with others are said to have formed the party that help up Beenblossom and his son. A young fellow a companion of Casey and Reed, was captured with Reed and is being held in the Wahsita County jail at Cordell. It is thought that he is another of the Beenblossom attacking party and the doctor will go to Cordell to identify him. The two ere capture in a saloon known as “Hughes Place” near Cloud Chief in Washita County by Fossett and the sheriff of that county. It is believed that Reed and his partner were with the parties when the post office and store were robbed at Gyp. When arrested they had in their possession a large amount of property that had evidently been stolen from the store. Reed had on three pair of corduroy pants. They had also several head of stolen horses with saddles and a number of stolen guns, all of which were recovered by the officers. Two of the horses, a dirty colored dun and a grey have been ridden by the two for several months and aided the officers in keeping track of the fugitives. Reed was in the federal jail on the charge of stealing horse’s when he made his escape last July and is know to the offices as an old offender in that line. His capture by Fossett is considered a fine piece of work.
‘BAD MEN!’ W. D. (Bill) Fossett, In “American Legion Weekly”
October 17, 1929— The Kingfisher Times--About the time I became special officer for the Rock Island railroad in Oklahoma Territory, the townsite war between Enid and North Enid was going good. The Rock Island, being heavily interested in the North Enid townsite, refused to stoop its trains at Enid, where the Federal government had laid out a town when the Cherokee Strip was opened to settlement in 1893. The result was a regular armed conflict between the frontier towns of Enid and North Enid, with the Rock Island supporting the latter. The Enid people sawed down a railroad bridge, a colony of soldiers from Fort Reno rode in and took charge, and things were lively. This required my presence at North Enid a good deal of the time. One afternoon Lew Humprheys from my home at Kingfisher was visiting me. I suggested that we get on the northbound train and ride up to Caldwell, just across the Kansas line, have a good meal at the Harvey House and catch the evening train back to North Enid. There was no place in the Strip where you could get as good a meal as they put up at the Harvey house, so Lew was glad to go. On our way back after supper, the train made its customary stop at Pond Creek, about twenty five miles over the Oklahoma line. Like North Enid, Pond Creek was a railroad town that did not enjoy the government’s favor. The government town was Round Pond, three miles south. The railroad would not stop its trains there, which the citizens naturally resented. The same hard feeling existed between Round Pond and Pond Creek and the Rock Island was between the two Enids and the railroad, twenty-five miles farther down the track. Leaving Pond Creek at nine o’clock or thereabouts we picked up speed and whistled through Round Pond without a stop. Mr. Humphreys and I were sitting in the smoking car talking with Joe Reed, the conductor, who had turned over a seat facing us, when the brakes were abruptly applied and the train began to chug along to a pretty sudden stop. But before it stopped the brakes were released and it started ups lowly and ran for a few yards and then stopped altogether and we heard two or three shots fired outside. “What in Sam Hill is the matter?” exclaimed Reed, jumping up. “It looks to me like a holdup,” I said. “Have you got a gun on you, Joe” I had no gun. The conductor handed me a little thing that looked like a toy pistol. The colored porter ran out on the front platform of the smoker, which adjoined the express car. There were some shouts, another shot or two and the porter did not return. There was a good deal of commotion and someone shouted that the Dalton gang had waylaid the train. I told Joe I didn’t believe it was the Daltons. The Dalton and Bill Doolin gangs were operating over east, holding up the Santa Fe about once a week, but they had never touched the Rock Island and I did not think they would tough it. I know all the Dalton boys, and at this time one of their brother in law was living in a house of mine. I took Joe’s little gun and said I would go out and see who they were and what was going on. The noise was all coming from the west or right side of the train. I went out on the platform of the smoker where the porter had gone and started to look out when I saw a man spring up on the ground right under the steps and started to run toward the engine. I thought he was a passenger from one of the rear cars who had lost his head, or I could have killed him easily. The train had stopped where the road, or trail as it was then, crossed the track. A fire was burning beside the track, which I later learned was a signal to bob Hughes and Jim Borland, the outlaws who had boarded the tender unseen at Pond Creek, and climbed over and covered the engineer and fireman and forced them to bring the train to a stop where the rest of the gang was waiting. There were not many fences in that country in those days, but there was fence along this road, a barbed wire fence, and it came pretty close to the track. This man I saw running got tangled up in this fence, but he finally climbed over it and joined the rest of the outlaws, who were yelling and swearing like outlaws generally did, and hosting through the top of the express car, trying to get the express messenger and the guard to pen it. They had the engine crew and the porter with them so the people in the express car were afraid to shoot through the door for fear of killing some of their own men. I knew by the voices of the outlaws that not one of the Daltons were with them, which, to tell the truth, made me feel a little better, as I would have hated to think that any of the Dalton boys would have caused me any trouble, as long as we had known each other. The express messenger would not open up and the outlaws laid a stick of dynamite on the door-sill and ran back a little piece. There was a pretty strong explosion, which wrecked the door, but did not open it, and buckled the steel plate on the sill so that it could not be opened. But the express messenger said if the boys would come around to the other side of the train he would open up. I had no confidence in Joe Reed’s little gun and went back into the train to get a better one. Entering the coach back of the smoker, the first man who caught my eye was a fellow seated about a third of the way back from the front door. He was a tall, slim fellow, pretty well dressed and wearing a broad western hat. He did not seem greatly disturbed by what was going on, although by this time the passengers as a whole were pretty thoroughly excited. “Have you got a gun on you?” I asked this man. He seemed surprised. “No, what makes you think I’d have a gun?” There was something about the way he said it that I didn’t like. “You look to me like a man who’d have a gun,’ I replied. He insisted however, that he hadn’t a gun. “You must sit where you are, then” I said. “And don’t move.” Just then the train guard burst into the car. He had come through the end door of the express car and through the smoker. He had a shotgun with him and he fell flat on the floor and started to crawl under a seat, crying, “They are going to kill me!” I took his shotgun and went out on the platform and standing on the steps on the east side look to see what was going on. Two of the robbers were handing their companions up into the express door. Shooting was going all the time, and by the dim light from the train windows I located a man standing up in the bar pit which is where they scrape along the side of the track to make a fill, shooting back through the upper part of the train to intimidate the passengers. As my eyes became accustomed to the darkness I could see him plainer and in a minute he keeled over pistol in hand. Someone had brought him down by a shot from the train. When this happened, the men began to jump from the car and the whole outfit started to run east along the road to where their horses were tied to the fence. They shot back as they ran and mounted their horses and rode away. I noticed that two horses were left, which would indicate that more than this one robber must have been put out of the fight. I went and untied the two horses and led them tack to the train but there was no evidence that we had got more than one of the robbers. He was dead. They were loading the corpse in the express car when I head a voice at my elbow. “I’ll take those horses back to town for you.” I looked and saw the man I’d asked for a gun. “I told you to stay in that car,” I said. “I have someone to take the horses to town. Just then I recognized Joe McClellan, a partner of Prince Gentry in the lumber and banking business at Round Pond. (Round Pond is now known as Pond Creek), and the old railroad stop at Pond Creek, three miles north, has been abandoned. Mr. McClellan is now dead but Prince Gentry resides at Enid. Mr. McClellan had some boys with him and I entrusted the horses to them. My man of the gun incident got back into the car. The train backed to Pond Creek, where we unloaded the corpse and AI got out and put up for the night. The coroner’s inquest was held the next day, and who should turn up as a voluntary witness but this passenger. The dead man was identified as Bob Hughes, a member of a family that produced several outlaws down in the Chickasaw Indian Country. I had known him slightly. He was a friend of Belle Starr, and used to hand out at the Starr ranch in the Cherokee Country, over west of Fort Smith. Belle Starr was a quarter-blood Cherokee and the only real woman desperado I have ever known although I have known several who nowadays bear that reputation, including Calamity Jan Canary. Belle Starr was a superior woman in more ways than one. She had good looks and there was a trace of refinement in her manners that was a novelty among her associates, men and women, although I never heard that she had many women associates. The passenger gave his name as Hill and launched into his testimony as though he were running the inquest. Finally I stopped him. “Those aren’t the facts,” I said. “What I gave are the facts in this case.” The man said he had forgotten, and changed his story without argument. I was interested in this Hill. After the inquest I went up to him. “I’d like to make you proposition,” I said. “There will be a big reward out in this case, and I’d like to have you help me run these fellows down.” He said that was agreeable to him. Going over the scene of the attempted hold-up I found a seamless two-bushel grain sack—they do not make them any more—that the robbers evidently intended to carry the loot away in. It had been patched with two kinds of goods—some pants goods, and some pinkish cotton goods. Examining the two horses I found that their hind shoes had been drawn recently. They appeared to be driving rather than riding horses, which the robbers no doubt had stolen. There were trailers on their shoes. A horse cannot travel under saddle well with that kind of shoe and they are also more easily trailed. Leaving a friend to keep a watch over Hill and to follow him if he left town, I made a trip to Topeka to see Mr. M. A. Lowe, the general solicitor of the railroad, and returned to Pond Creek to find Hill still there, staying at Billy Malleley’s ranch house, which we all used as a hotel. But someone had brought Hill a horse and the day after my return he made an excuse to me and mounted his horse and rode south. I followed him, keeping three quarter of mile back, just so as to catch sight of him now and then on a far rise of the prairie. He rode south to within three mills of north Enid and then turned west toward a part of the country, which had a pretty bad name. But he did not go far. After traveling about three miles I saw him ride and into a big ravine and approach a dugout that was set in the west side of it. I rode back to Pond Creek and tried to get hold of Bedford Woods, a plain-clothes man in Wichita, who had been my deputy when I was city marshal of Caldwell in the early days. Failing to get Woods I boarded a southbound train to North Enid to find someone else. My wife, who had been visiting in Caldwell, was on the train enroute to our home in Kingfisher. Inasmuch as I had been warned that I would get killed if I tried to raid the dugout, and as Mr. Lowe of the railroad had advised against it, I thought I had better tell Mrs. Fossett of my plans. I did so, and left the train at North Enid, here I picked up a sort of half outlaw whose name slips my mind. He agreed to go with me and I had got my guns and ammunition and was looking around for a dark lantern when my son Lew, dropped off of a freight train from Kingfisher. Lew was fifteen years old. He was a boy who did not have a great deal to say. He hung around with me for a few hours, until I got my lantern. I told Lew to make himself at home about the hotel as I was going out into the country and probably would not be back until late that night. “I heard about it,” Lew said, “I’m going with you.” I told him he was not going. “You’ll take some stranger out with you” Lew said, “and you’ll get killed.” Lew said if that happened it would make an outlaw out of him, as he would follow the fellows who killed me until he got them. There was something to think about in what my son said. I had seen too many young fellows hit the outlaw trail not to know that. And I did not think any too much of the fellow I had engaged to go with me. In those days it was a slim line that separated some law officers from those who operated on the wrong side of the law. One year they were deputy sheriff or deputy marshals and the next year the sheriffs and marshals were after them. It was all from being exposed to the rough life of a new country. I thought it over and for my son’s sake more than anything else; I turned the other man off, and told Lew I would take him along. It may be lucky that I did, for I later learned that this man I had picked up was a tougher character than I had supposed him to be, and my suspicions were none too good. We approached the ravine where the dugout was without any trouble, tied our horses in a clump of brush and crawled up to the back end of the dugout. There was a little window just above the surface of the ground. We began shooting through it with Winchesters and two women and two or three young men ran out and went into the brush. We did not bother them further, but posting my son as a guard outside I entered the dugout with my dark lantern in one hand and a gun in the other. There was no one inside, and one of the first things I found, hanging by a nail on the wall, was a little boy’s pant, with two pieces cut out of it, one of them from the waist lining. The goods were the same as the sack had been patched with. I also found two pairs of horseshoes and making a good search I found a letter in a man’s coat. The letter had been written only a few days before from Pawnee, Oklahoma. It said in effect: “We will meet in El Reno on Saturday and sell the horses and mules and fix to rob the train at Marlow on the fifteenth when they take the government money through to Fort Sill.” As the envelope was missing I could not learn to whom the letter was addressed, but Felix Young, who was an outlaw I had heard of, but had ever seen, signed it. I took the shoes to Pond Creek and they fitted the two horses there, nail hole for nail hole. I took the pants to Topeka and they matched the patches in the sack. Early Saturday morning I picked up Bedford Woods at Wichita and took him down the line with me toward El Reno. At North Enid Bill Tilghman, Chris Madsen, Heck Thomas and three or four other deputy United States marshals got on the train. They told me they had found out ‘who’ had held up the train at Round Pond. It was the Daltons. They had a woman with them, a woman who was an associate of outlaws, who had told them all about it. I told them that if they would get off with me at El Reno I would show them that they were being misled. Woods and I reached El Reno and went up to the office of the Rock Island attorney there. While we there were talking I happened to look out the window and see my old friend Hill go past on foot. Other men who were leading a string of horses and mules followed him. Woods and I grabbed up our hats and ran downstairs. We pulled out our guns and grabbed the two members of the gang who were nearest. They made no special trouble and we got them around the corner to the little El Reno jail and came back. Turning into Bickford Street, I almost ran into Nate Silvey (in another article this was spelled Silva), whom I had seen with Hill a few moments before. Nate Silvey was a bad looker and he had a bad reputation. He was redheaded, freckle-faced, broad-shouldered and six feet five inches tall. I shoved a gun against him and told him to put up his hands. He did so without the least protest. Woods took his gun and marched him away toward jail. Meantime out of the corner of my eye I had caught sight of Hill again. He was running for his horse, which was tied to a hitch rail about a hundred yards away. He took a shot or two at me as he ran. I fired and killed Hill’s horse just as he was mounting, and Hill turned west down a side street, past Kerfoot Hotel with me after him. We were both shooting. Finally Hill fell, wounded. When he got up I was almost on him. ‘Throw up your hands!” I hollered. He raised his hands, still holding onto his gun. “Throw that gun away!” I yelled. He tossed it toward me. My friend Hill turned out to be Felix Young. They took him and Nate Silvey and the others to Pond Creek for trail, but there were never tried. He railroad war between Pond Creek and Round Pond was reaching an acute stage and one day the Round Pond people overturned a quarter of a mile of track. There was a good deal of shooting and excitement and in the midst of it the Pond Creek jail was broken into and the train robbers got out. Young was killed afterwards in Wyoming and Silvey went to the penitentiary in Missouri for stealing horses. (Continued next week)
BAD MEN By W. D. (Bill) Fossett NOTE: the story, reprinted from the America Legion Weekly, is continued from last week’s issue of the Times. Those who did not read the first installment should look it up now or else come to The Times office and get an extra copy of that issue. It’s too good a story to miss any of it.
October 24, 1929—The Kingfisher Times--Jim Borland was not captured. He went back to his home in the Indian Territory and led a quieter life, and in 1901 when the Kiowa and Comanche country was opened Jim Thompson, the sheriff of the new county of Caddo, came to me and said he had selected the man he wanted for under sheriff and asked me to have a talk with him. The man was Jim Borland. I recognized him, and told Thompson I’d recognized him, but as he had led a straight life for seven years and was a good nervy man I thought that he would make a useful under sheriff. He was appointed. At this time I was chief Deputy United Stats Marshal of Oklahoma. Jim Thompson had been one of my assistants and I had more or less engineered his election as sheriff of Caddo County, wanting to get the office in good hands. When this country was opened Dr. Beanblossom and his boy started from Oklahoma City for the new town of Lawton. The Casey gang robbed them on the way and the Beanblossom boy was killed. Bert Casey and his partner Simms were slippery characters from the Chickasaw Indian country. After the Beanblossom murder Jim Thompson and the sheriff of the surrounding counties had a meeting and decided to put a spotter on Casey’s trail, Casey not being personally known to any of the officers. This Casey was a young fellow about twenty or twenty-one, but he had killed several men. He was the killer type, like Billy the Kid, but unlike the Kid, he shot from ambush without giving his victims a chance. I always rather like the Kid, with whom I never had any dealings as a peace officer, but for several years I carried a fancy gold mounted Winchester of his that was given me by one of his friends. The spotter the sheriffs picked was a brother-in-law of Jim Hughes, an old outlaw gang leader and a relative of bob Hughes, who was killed in the attempted train robbery at Round Pond. Before I had heard of the action of the sheriffs I followed a similar course picking two young fellows I had in the Federal jail at Guthrie on minor charges, named Ed Lockett and Fred Hudson. Lockett, Hudson and the Hughes’s brother-in-law, whose name I forget, joined Casey at about the same time and a little later Casey joined Jim Hughes. This made a pretty strong combination. The Hughes’ brother-in-law somehow got the rectitude of his intentions suspected by the outlaws and one night they took him down by the bank of a creek and hung him. My man Fred Judson held the horses. This came near discouraging Ed Lockett, but Hudson was game and continued to play my hand. I had in jail several of the Casey gang who were to be taken to Lawton for trial for the Beanblossom murder. I told Hudson to put the idea in Casey’s head to make a raid on the courthouse at Lawton to rescue these men. That was the way I intended to kill or capture Casey. Hudson did this and Casey thought the suggestion had merit. “But if we do that,” Casey said, “we will have to get out of the country and there must be some money to travel on.” It was decided to rob the bank at Cleo Springs to get the money, and preparations were made for Casey and Simms and my men Hudson and Lockett to rob the bank. The four camped under a big tree on the prairie outside the town. Casey and Simms rode into town, got shaved and looked the place over. When Hudson and Lockett returned Casey said that the robbery would take place the next morning at nine o’clock. It was a habit of outlaws, as well as a good many other people, to examine their guns the first thing of a morning—to “warm them up,” they used to say. That night Hudson called Lockett out and told him: “We can’t afford to go into this holdup, as someone is going to get killed. So in the morning when we are warming up our guns you sit down in front of Simms and I’ll sit down in front of Casey. You keep your eye on me and when I nod I’m going to make Casey throw up his hands or I’m going to kill him and I want you to take care of Simms.” The next morning the four men got their breakfast together over a fire and sat down to eat it and discuss the projected bank robbery. My boys ate fast and then sat down as Hudson had planned and go out their guns and began to twirl them around and limber u. Casey and his partner were sitting with their guns in their holsters when Hudson looked at Lockett and nodded. “Put up your hands, Bert,” said Fred Hudson. Bert Casey was ordinarily no man’s fool; but this time he did a foolish thing. He reached for his gun—and that is a bad thing for any man to do when he is covered, I don’t care how quick on the draw he is. Hudson fired and Casey rolled over, but he had his gun in his hand. Lockett, who was the weak sister of the combination, had lost his nerve and after shooting Casey, Hudson had to turn and shoot Simms. He did so killing him. Then there was a third shot. It came from Casey’s gun. It went wild and when Hudson got to Casey he was dead. Both Hudson and Lockett swore to me that a contraction of Casey’s finder fire that shot after he was dead. This rid Oklahoma of two bad men, but as there would be hard feelings I advised Lockett and Hudson to get out of the country. Hudson went back to his home in Arkansas, and was himself when Jim Borland got out a warrant for murder against him and went to Arkansas and brought him back for trial at Anadarko. Although Borland had assured Sheriff Thompson that he bore me no ill will as a result of my part in the Round Pond holdup, I am satisfied that it was on my account that he was persecuting the Hudson boy, so I attended his trial and he was acquitted. The verdict of the jury made Jim Borland hopping mad. I was prepared for that, but thought it would blow over. Jim had been a good officer, and I wanted to see him succeed, but I would not let him take his old grudge against me out on young Hudson. When they let Hudson lose I told him to get back to Arkansas as quick as he could or there would be more trouble and he said he would. But before he had time to get out of Anadarko Jim Borland met him on the street and began to abuse him and say that he was going to hold him as a witness against Jim Hughes, who meantime had been captured. One word led to another and a crowd gathered. No one seems to have noticed who drew first, if there was any perceptible difference in time between draws. At any rate the two fired simultaneously and fell. Borland killed instantly. Hudson was pretty far-gone when they got to him. “What did I do to Jim?” he asked. “You killed him,” someone said. “Well,” said Hudson, “I just want to outlive that son of a gun.” Fred Hudson had about ten minutes in which to enjoy the satisfaction of this triumph. Carmen Headlight.
BILL FOSSETT, UNSCATHED BY OUTLAW’S BULLETS IN LONG AND COLORFUL CAREER AS PEACE OFFICER, DIES—IN BED Terror of Early-Day Desperadoes in Texas, Kansas and Oklahoma Dies quietly In Kingfisher Honored by ‘Teddy’ Roosevelt
March 11, 1940—The Kingfisher Free Press--Last rites for W. D. Fossett will be held at 9 o’clock Wednesday morning at the Catholic Church in Kingfisher, Rev. Theo Van Hulse officiating. Interment will follow in Kingfisher cemetery. Arrangements are in charge of Bracken funnel home. “Be you born to die in bed, bullets in their deathly course will bend around you. Lethal lead will never lay you low.” This comment written in a story concerning W. D. “Bill Fossett of Kingfisher, became an actuality at 10:10 o’clock Saturday morning when the great frontiersman and pioneer peace officer breathed his last in bed. He had been ill for several weeks. In the whole history of Oklahoma, perhaps, more hot lead streamed by the form of Bill Fossett without touching him than shot alongside any mortal in this region. No one was more frequently exposed to danger than he—yet he lived healthily to an age, which long since had surpassed the ordinary span of life. Age Not Definite Just how old Fossett actually was at the time of his death is in doubt. Some reliable sources said he was 90. Date of birth given on his social security card was November 3, 1851, which would fix his age as 88. However, the “Portrait and Biographical Record” volume published in Chicago in 1901, statement was made that Fossett was born in Watertown, N. Y. on November 3, 1852, which would make his age 87 years. Fossett was city marshal of Caldwell, Kans., in the wide-open frontier days when that city was at its roughest and toughest. He also was the first city marshal of Kingman, Kans., and as a deputy United States marshal. In the early days before Oklahoma statehood, his career became part and parcel of the evolution of this commonwealth. Staked First Claim “Uncle Bill,” as many Kingfisher people had affectionately called him in recent years, staked the first claim in Kingfisher. After an all-day and all-night ride over the uncharted prairies from the present vicinity of Alva, he arrived on the line west of Kingfisher only a few minutes before the shot was fired that started the race for homes. His horse, though tired from the forced journey, led the procession into Kingfisher and Fossett dismounted and staked his claim on the quarter section now occupied by the post office (at that time by the land office). Many others claimed that this land should have been divided into town lots and that Fossett had no right to claim the entire acreage, but he and his Winchester “defied the world:” and won. No one dared set foot on Fossett’s homestead, and in court he later was able to establish his right of ownership to the tract. Knew Chisholm Trail Few persons were so well informed concerning the Chisholm Trail days preceding the opening of Oklahoma to settlement as Fossett. In 1873—16 years before the opening Fossett traveled the cattle trail from Abilene, Kans., to Wichita, where he struck the Chisholm Trail for the first time and followed it into Oklahoma. He traveled the trail on many occasions during the years that followed, and said that the lonesomest night he ever spent was a night on the bank of Kingfisher creek when the Indians were holding a big pow-wow and he found it prudent to stay awake all night lest ill fate befall him while asleep. Fossett was best known, though, for his accomplishments as a peace officer. For 50 years in various capacities in Texas, Kansas and Oklahoma, he was the terror of outlaws and lawbreakers in general. For a number of years he was a special officer for the Rock Island railway, and during that time he brought an end to the careers of several notorious train robbers. At one time he was chief of police in Kingfisher. President Praised Him As a deputy United States marshal he got results that others before him had been unable or unwilling to produce. President Theodore Roosevelt, who had appointed him chief deputy in 1907, called him to Washington an honored him at a dinner in the White house. Roosevelt, in a talk at the dinner, placed his hand on the shoulder of Fossett, who sat next to him and said: “I have had a good deal of trouble with my marshal appointments in Oklahoma, but gentlemen, I made mo mistake when I appointed Mr. Fossett.” The United States attorney general voiced similar expressions of gratitude for a job well done at that time. Fossett, unlike some other early day officers who preyed upon unfortunate homesteaders who because of the press of adverse circumstances were forced to cut protected timer or indulged in other minor infraction of law, turned his attention to the “big time” law violators and did much to bring order to a new land where every man had been obliged to be his own protector. Was Crack Shot
Alva McDonald, who at
tome time was Fossett’s boss when the latter was a deputy United States
marshal, said Saturday in El Reno: “Why, that man could shoot a bird out of the sky with a rifle, and he could snap a barbed wire fence with a pistol while riding in an automobile.” Fossett was born of Scotch-Irish parents, and came west with them when he was four years old. In 1872 he went to Kansas, and engaged in the cattle business on the Smoky River, near Solomon City. For several years he dealt exclusively in livestock, often going to Monterrey, Mexico, and driving as many as 500 horses at a time to Emporia, Kans., where he shipped the animals to Michigan and other eastern points. In recent years Fossett had lived quietly in Kingfisher. His greatest enjoyment was to renew old friendships with pioneer people whom he had not seen for many years. Last April 22, when Kingfisher celebrated its golden anniversary, he was particularly overjoyed when visited by David Leahy of Wichita, Kansas., who was a newspaper correspondent here at the opening and became one of the fist mayors of the twin cities of Kingfisher and Lisbon. It was the first reunion of the two colorful characters since shortly after the opening of the country to settlement. The picture on this page was taken at the time. Fosset was married several times, and a wife Laura, still resides in Enid. A son, Louis, resides in Tulsa, and a daughter Mayme, died a number of years ago. Three nephews and two nieces also are known to be among his survivors. They are listed as follows: C. S. Fossett, Caldwell; Winifred Fossett, Wellington; B. V. Mangold, Oklahoma City; Mrs. H. W. Grabber, Minneapolis; and Mrs. George Nivar, Oklahoma City. Recently he had made his home at the Utley residence on West Broadway.
THEY MADE ‘TOUGH GOING’ FOR OUTLAWS
March 18, 1940— The Kingfisher Free Press--Probably no man now living knows as much of the personal history of the late W. D. “Bill” Fossett of Kingfisher as does Joe Grimes of McLoud, Okla., formerly of the local community. Fossett is shown above at left with Grimes, in a picture taken in Kingfisher in 1900. Photographer was a Miss White, sister of Mrs. S.S. Simpson of McPherson, Kans., well-known in Kingfisher. Her studio was located in the Anheuser-Busch building on Roberts avenue, then the main business thoroughfare of the city. Grimes said Fossett had two identical $45 tailor-made suits made in Guthrie at his own expense for the occasion. Grimes Was Deputy Grimes served as a deputy under Fossett when the latter was chief United States Marshal for the western district. A furor was created by Fossett’s appointment of Grimes as deputy, for Grimes was a democrat, and the republican administration, which was in power at the time, took its politics seriously. But the appointment stuck, and Fossett and Grimes served the law enforcement needs of the region with distinction. Grimes came to Kingfisher last Wednesday to serve as one of the pallbearers at the funeral of his old friend. He said that it had been planned that he and Fossett and Chris Madsen of Guthrie, another frontier marshal, would make a trip to Pawnee in the spring to spend a week as guests of the famous frontiersman, Pawnee Bill, but death intervened to prevent the keenly anticipated reunion. The Times and Free Press asked Grimes if he would write a story concerning some of the recollections of Fossett, and in response that request he had contributed the following:
Dear Folks:
You asked me to give you a story of W. D. “Bill” Fossett as I knew him. I knew Bill, and we were more than friends for almost 60 years. Bill thought more of a friend than he did of all the silver and gold. He lived not for himself, but for what he could do for his friends. I have seen Bill tried in many different ways. No matter what anyone had to say he always stayed true to his friends, helping everyone that called on him for help. I said to him once, “Bill, you are too big-hearted,” His reply to me was “I thought money was to spend won’t do you any good to keep it. I would rather make someone happy and have my pocket empty that to turn someone down who is in need.” His home in Guthrie was always open to his friends. I remember Jerry Cunningham of Kingfisher, who was visiting Bill in Guthrie. While there he suddenly became ill with typhoid fever and died in Bill’s home. Bill paid all expenses, both doctor and funeral bills. When Colonel Theodore Roosevelt was elected president, Bill chartered a special car, took with him a number of friends to Washington to notify Roosevelt of his being elected. On his return he told me the trip cost him $300. He got a kick out of giving presents to his friends. On one occasion he aid $500 for a saddle, and had it expressed to President Theodore Roosevelt as a present. If Bill Fossett had an enemy it was someone who did not know him. Even the prisoners in the federal jail in Guthrie, many of whom Bill had run down and put behind the bars, all respected him and called him Uncle Bill. To Bill, Kingfisher was always home. Last fall when I was sick he made me a visit. He held my hand and cried like a child. He said: “Joe, I’m so sorry to see you so sick. I’m coming back to see you: I would stay longer, but I’m homesick to get back to my old hometown Kingfisher.” Bill could have reached the top of the ladder financially had he not had such a big heart—he was too liberal for his own good. After all, he took with him just as much as Henry Ford will when he goes. Respectfully, Joe Grimes
W. D. ‘BILL’ FOSSETT’S OWN STORY
March 18, 1940— The Kingfisher Free Press--The story, which follows, is made of incidents in the settlement of Oklahoma as related by W. D. “Bill” Fossett to his nephew Burt V. Manigold of Oklahoma City and as recorded by the latter. Manigold has prepared a detailed account of many of Fossett’s exploits and hopes to have the material published in book form. Great ranches were broken up and the cowboys found themselves without occupation. They had been led by the cattlemen to believe that the nesters, as they called them, had no rights. Deputy Marshals were needed sorely, and as the fees were liberal and the work easy, many cowboys entered this vocation. Such danger as was attached to the office only made it the more alluring to these bold riders. There seemed to exist a greater chance for graft from the settlers on the one hand and the outlaws on the other. This situation led to a great amount of trouble. Few people of this generation have any conception of the manner in which the federal government handled law enforcement during the settlement of Oklahoma; or of the causes, which frequently transformed government from orderly process into misadministration of law. Deputies Were Numerous The president appointed a federal judge, with territorial as well as the usual power; also a United States marshal empowered to name his own deputies. I have seen as many as 150 deputy marshals in the field at one time, each man having the right to name two possemen. With the increasing settlement of the territory, the judicial districts were increased to seven each consisting of two or more counties. Deputy Marshals were allowed a mileage fee, substance charge transportation for themselves and prisoners, fee for guards, and a fee for “endeavoring’ to catch criminals, whether or not they were successful. In many instances, it was profitable not to catch them. That would have killed the goose that laid the golden egg if pushed to its logical conclusion. Jobs Were Lucrative I have been asked why, in a terrain like that of Oklahoma notorious criminals roamed at liberty for years without apprehension. Of course, portions of the sate, notable in the west, are rough and broken: there are large areas of dense black jack pines, or deep cedar bend canyons. Settlers also sheltered the bandits fearing reprisals if they should give information to the officers. But the main reason for the criminals’ immunity lay in the fact that the deputy marshals did not desire to lose those lucrative fees. All the outlaws understood this condition thoroughly, and felt fairly safe so long as they did not flaunt their lawlessness needlessly under the very eyes of the marshals. Scores of ex-cowboys and criminals took advantage of the situation to secure appointments, in which they could rob the government by padding accounts. It would be unjust and untrue to brand all early deputies with this stigma. There were many conscientious deputies who made every effort to apprehend the law violators. Nevertheless, I challenge anyone with knowledge of early Oklahoma history to name half a dozen of the earlier outlaws who had not previously been cowboys or deputy marshals of the United States. Bob and Grat Dalton both served as United States deputies before they decided that banditry was more profitable—if not quite so safe. These deputies could work both sides of the road without danger of violating a statue of the United States, or of losing reputation except amen the better-informed citizenry. Many Settlers Abused One of the most frequent, most lucrative and most dastardly abuses practiced by them was made possible b a federal law that forbade the cutting of green timer on government land. In those days, the southwestern portion of Oklahoma was covered with dense areas of mesquite. Small cedars filled the deep canyons. For the benefit of those who have not seen mesquite, I might liken it to a discarded, deserted peach orchard, scrubby and useless. Most of the wood is underground. It makes good firewood, but that is about all. Some of the cedars were large enough for the manufacture of fence posts. The poor settlers, reduced to extremity by the severity of unplowed wilderness, would cut and haul a load of posts a hundred miles, perhaps to ear the wherewithal to buy a few meager grocery supplies and thus feed their starving families. Hardships Were Many No one who has not undergone such an experience can imagine the misery and hardships encountered. Plaques of malaria and typhoid attended the breaking of raw sod, and the use of water from shallow, surface wells in a land devoid of sanitary precautions. Hundreds died during the first two years from typhoid alone. These years were marked by severe drouth. Wheat and corn burned in the fields, and barely enough was save for seed. Families lived like rodents in pitiful dugouts, infested with vermin, sleepy upon dirt floors and using furniture made from dry goods boxes. Women fashioned dresses for themselves and their children from gunnysacks. Flour sack garments were regarded as quality clothing It was against the law to ship game out of season, but many an Oklahoma settler obtained all the money he secured for four and bacon and beans from the shipment or quail in lots of small as half a dozen birds. These were saleable on the St. Louis and Kansas City markets at rates varying from $1.25 to $1.50 per dozen. With this money they drove the snarling wolf from the door…but he returned the next night and sniffed at the window. Homesteaders Arrested It became a favorite means of graft among these “brave” deputy marshals of that undesirable type I have described to swoop down upon some miserable homesteader, hauling a load of ill-shaped fence posts or firewood to market, arrest him, take him before a United States commissioner and have him bound over to the next term of court. The nearest commissioner was in Wichita, from 300 to 400 miles distant; while the federal court, presided over by the famous hanging jurist—Judge Parker—was at Fort Smith, Ark. Each mile that the homesteader traveled to commissioner or court—often driving his won skinny team—and paying his own subsistence—added to the deputy’s fee. Charges Mounted Fast The commissioner would charge his fees to the government; the deputy would charge his arrest fee, his mileage fee, transportation for himself and prisoners, subsistence and sometimes the routine fees for guards to keep the “outlaw farmer” from escaping. There have been well-authenticated instances when a deputy had run his account to $700 or $800 in a few days’ time by gathering 40 or 50 homesteaders—and with very little legitimate expense. When I was appointed United States marshal for Oklahoma, I explained to the department of Justice that mesquite was detrimental to the land’ and thus won leniency in the attitude of the department. I cut the marshal’s force from 150 men to 15 and found that I had plenty of officers to conduct the legitimate business of the territory. Never during my nine years as chief deputy and United State marshal did I permit the arrest of a homesteader for cutting green timber. I did not feel that the government should penalize pioneer heroism, regardless of any statue. In the above picture, taken in the early days of Kingfisher on Roberts avenue at the post office corner, the lady on the white horse is Mamie Fossett, daughter of Bill Fossett. Kingfisher pioneer and former United States marshal, whose funeral services were held in Kingfisher Wednesday morning. According to a story told to The Times and Free Press by Fossett during Kingfisher’s golden anniversary celebration last April 22, the white horse his daughter was riding in the picture, once was owned by Dick West, outlaw and member of the infamous Al Jennings gang. West, with the Jennings gang, held up a Rock Island train in 1897 at Siding No. 1, now Pocasset. West rode the white horse to the holdup scene and after the robbery made his escape on the horse. At the time of the crime, Fossett was busy hunting some desperadoes in western Kansas. On hearing of the robbery, the Rock Island railroad furnished Fossett with a special train, consisting of a locomotive and a coach and rushed him back to Oklahoma. On arriving in Kingfisher, Fossett received a tip that West was hanging out at a farm about six or seven miles south and west of Guthrie, near Seward. Fossett accompanied by Sheriff Rhinhardt of Logan County, went to the farm. Rhinhardt was armed with a shotgun and Fossett with his heavy revolver, which he always carried while on trips of this nature. As the two officers neared the farmhouse they called out to the occupants to come out and surrender. Instead of following orders, West ran out the back door to his white horse, standing at the edge of some nearby timber. Rhinhardt took a shot at West with the shotgun as West was making the dash for his horse, but the outlaw escaped unhit. Getting the horse between himself and the officers West opened fire on the officers with his six-gun. Fossett fired once and West dropped dead. (In telling this story, Fossett, who had a reputation as one of the best shorts in the history of Oklahoma, was very apologetic that it was necessary for him to kill West. Fossett later acquired the horse and presented it to his daughter. Mamie Fossett, according to reports, died many years ago. Others shown in the picture are Mrs. Sam Lowry, driver of the rig: Bess Roberts (Mrs. G. A. Nelson of Waurika) sitting on the floor of the rig; Mag Roberts (Mrs. Charles Van Dyne of North Bend. Ore.), sitting next to the driver; and Kit Spice, Lincoln, Nebr., standing. Note the old post at the left of the picture. * * * * * * * NOTE: A. C. Black, who was a telegrapher at the Rock Island depot in Kingfisher at the time of the Siding No. 1 holdup, recalls hearing the news of the crime coming over the telegraph wires. He tells that Jennings and his gang forgot their dynamite with which to open the express messenger’s safe, so they lined the passengers up along the right of way fence and forced the porter to collect in a sack any valuables the passengers might have. * * * * * * *
Doubtless there are others who could add to the saga of the man who was a contemporary of Chris Madsen, Bill Tilghman and Wyatt Earp, men of the law who were as well known in their time as J. Edgar Hoover and Thomas E. Dewey are today. But all are agreed that when the going was hardest, “Bill” Fossett led the way.
Foster, George succeeded Thomas Taylor in November of 1900 as deputy marshal of Noble County where George served as sheriff. The old deputy marshal served in that capacity until 1921. George came to Indian Territory before the opening of “The Strip.” (The Woodward Bulletin - November 30, 1900) (Indian Pioneer History - Sarah R. Foster)
Foster, Josiah was commissioned on August 2, 1872, in the Western District at Ft. Smith, Arkansas, serving under Marshal Logan S. Roots. Josiah lived in Van Buren, Crawford County Arkansas. (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database)
Foster, Townsend N. was commissioned on August 14, 1895, in the Western District at Ft. Smith, Arkansas, serving under Marshal George J. Crump. (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database) (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Historical List)
Foster, William M. was commissioned in the Southern District Court of Indian Territory at Paris, Texas, in 1894. (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896)
Fowler, was commissioned in the Western District of Arkansas at Ft. Smith, Arkansas. Fowler was reported as one of the numerous deputy marshals that worked in the Caddo area. One of the Caddo residents complimented him by saying Fowler appeared as a gentlemen. (Caddo Starr - May 16,1876)
Fowler, H. L. served in the Central District in 1894. (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896)
Fowler, Joe served in the Central District in 1894. (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896)
Fox, Charles was commissioned at Tecumseh, Oklahoma Territory in July of 1894 and served until December of 1895, under Marshal Evett Nix. He rode with lawmen Heck Thomas and John James in November of 1895, to capture the Graves Gang who murdered John Swillings. The outlaws riddled Swillings’ body with bullets, robbed him, and then threw his body into the river. The gang was made up of James Graves, Bill Proctor, Lee Poulson, and James Stephens. (The Woodward News - November 8, 1895) (U.S. Deputy Marshals, I. T. & O. T., 1893 - 1896)
November 11, 1895—Kingfisher Free Press--The Grave gang of desperadoes in the territory have been captured and sent to Fort Smith where they will be tried under the charge of murder. The officers in charge were Deputy United States Marshals Charles Fox, Heck Thomas and John James. The four prisoners, James Grace, Bill Peters, Lee Poulson and James Stephens, were strongly ironed and were as hard looking a crew as anybody ever saw. These are only four of the worst gang of criminals that ever infested a country and it is believed that having captured the leaders the remainder of band can easily be taken. They have been guilty of all the crimes known to the catalogue but could only be caught after the cold-blooded murder of John Swilling October 17. Graves admits the murder of the man and says they killed because he had some change and they were in need of the same. Monday the Marshals came upon the gang unexpectedly and they were forced to surrender but not before a Mexican named Beiol had been shot. They were bad criminals as the Daltons but lacked executive ability and belonged to a lower class so prevalent among Mexicans.
Foyil, F. M. was commissioned on August 12, 1890, in the Western District at Ft. Smith, Arkansas, serving under Marshal Jacob Yoes. In September of 1890, Marion Smith was charged with the murder of Robert Parks of San Bois. Parks was found with a broken neck and his jaw broke in three places. Foyill served a warrant of arrest in November of 1891, to Smith, taking him to jail in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. Smith contended Parks and a friend, John Lafarrier were riding when Parks rode under a low hanging limb, causing his death. On December 22, 1893, Deputy Marshal Foyil delivered three prisoners to the federal jail in Ft. Smith, Arkansas. George Baker and Jack Prather were arrested in the Choctaw Nation, on larceny charges and George Rambo was charged with assault. (The Weekly Elevator - January 27, May 5, July 7, December 22, 1893) (Ft. Smith Federal Court Employee Database) (Ft. Smith Oaths of Office) (Ft. Smith Historical List)
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